


Jacob Black

by VampireGuardDogs



Series: twilight headcanons - individuals [15]
Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2020-09-26 16:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireGuardDogs/pseuds/VampireGuardDogs
Summary: A series of headcanons about Jacob Black





	1. Braided Cord

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! Come talk to me on Tumblr under the username vampireguarddogs and to see a bunch more Twilight content, including writing I don't post here and moodboards! I also accept writing requests for your favorite ship, character, or group. I love any kind of message, long or short, about my work or anything! Have a great day. :)

Jacob didn’t really have many hand-me-downs from his family. His sisters shared everything, close as they were. By the time things got to him, they were generally too worn down to be of much use. He had his own clothes, bought off the sales rack from the one store in town. His toys were few, mostly birthdays or Christmas gifts. It wasn’t that big of a deal for him; he mostly played outside with friends anyway.

One day, he was helping his father clean some old clothes out of his closet. Jacob was looking through them, deciding which ones he wanted to keep, if any could be donated, and which ones were destined for the trash. The “to sort” pile was about half the size it had once been and Jacob was just about to go get another trash bag when Billy asked him to wait a moment.

Jacob hesitated, and then turned back into the room. He saw his dad standing in the doorway of the surprisingly large closet, holding a small, wooden jewelry box. He had never seen the box before, so he didn’t know what was in it. Billy explained that he had something in it he wanted to show Jacob.  
He opened the box and inside was a leather cord, intricately woven into a soft braid pattern with multiple strands. Dotted along the leather cord were small pieces of wood. Jacob looked closer and saw each one was a tiny sculpture, each attached with another small piece of leather. He studied all the different shapes in awe, wanting to run his fingers along it to see if it was as smooth as it looked.

Billy lifted it out of the box and handed it to Jacob, who took it with care and sat down on the floor to continue his examination. Billy watched him for a bit, then walked over to the bed and sat down.

Jacob continued to study the charms on the heirloom. Most plentiful were wolves; at least a third of the tiny carvings were of the animal. Some showed a wolf curled up, as if sleeping. Others showed a wolf with his head thrown back, howling at an invisible moon. Others were carved crouching, or running, sitting or standing. They all looked different, whether in type of wood or pose of the animal.

Other animals were on the cord, too. A few bears and eagles, a deer, a fish, and a fox were mixed in. Around the animals were other symbols: a few butterflies, their wings with small splashes of dye to add brilliant colors. There were a few hearts and stars, beautiful in their simplicity. Jacob was examining a paint palette, colors added with tiny dots of bright dyes when his father spoke again.

“Your mother added that. I carved it for her, but she added the color. You remember she always wanted to add color to everything,” he told Jacob, smiling a sad smile. He nodded slowly, lost in his own memories. “Your sisters each added those hearts,” he added, as Jacob’s hands slid over two small hearts near the palette. One was made of a reddish-brown wood, the other was pale.

“What is this?” he asked, now looking at a carving of an ocean wave.

“When it was first made, I’m told a necklace. It’s much too long for that now, as it’s been added to for generations. Everyone in our family adds something. We used to have it hanging in the house, but took it down for safekeeping when you kids were little. But I figure it’s time to put it back up,” he said with a small sigh.

“Will I be able to add to it?” Jacob asked, looking up at his father for the first time.

“In a few years.” He smiled. “Your sisters just added theirs. I just wanted you to start thinking about yours, see some family history.”

“Thanks!” Jacob carefully stood up, mindful of what he held. “Where are we gonna put it?” 

“I was thinking in the living room?”

“By mom’s chair?”

“That sounds perfect.”


	2. Jacob Black

Jacob had always been fascinated with cars. From the time he was little and could hold a wrench, he’d help his mother in their garage, working to keep their old truck running far longer than it should’ve been. She showed him all the parts of the engine and everything under the hood, explaining their purpose and detailing how to tell if something was wrong. Their friends would often come by for help on their cars, offering company and good food in exchange for a cheap fix.

After she was gone, he couldn’t bring himself to go into the garage for a long time. It was their place, and it didn’t seem right to be there without her. Eventually he did, when their truck desperately needed a fix and that was the only place he could work on it. He was pleased to find he hadn’t forgotten anything, his fingers easily finding their place on the machinery, all the knowledge he had buried in grief coming back to the surface. He went back to the garage more often after that, continuing the tradition of offering a helping hand in exchange for good food and company.

He loved working with the cars that needed fixing, or with the one he was building. He could be out there for hours, getting lost in the work at hand. He had brought a small radio out for background noise now that he was the only one working there, and kept it turned on loud the whole time he was out. He often tuned it out though; getting so lost in the intricacy of fixing whatever was wrong with his current project. 

When he wasn’t in the garage, he liked to work with wood. This he learned from his father, starting with painting the figurines until Billy deemed him old enough to handle the small, sharp knives required for the task. They started bigger, working on larger sculptures to display around the house or give to friends and family. As he grew more skilled, he preferred to create smaller pieces, eventually going so little they could’ve been used as charms for jewelry. He kept them in a box in his room, letting the figurines pile up. He usually carved animals that he saw around the reservation: deer, snakes, different bugs, sea creatures that he found in the tidepools, the occasional wolf or bear seen from a distance when he was hiking with a group. Finding inspiration for them was easy.

Quil and Embry were his best friends, and it was rare he wasn’t with them. They played video games at Quil’s house, watched movies at Jacob’s, and played in the backyard at Embry’s, kicking a soccer ball back and forth and racing. The three could get fiercely competitive, trash-talking and arguing back and forth over results. They hung out in Jacob’s garage sometimes, Embry more so than Quil due to their shared interest in fixing cars. Jacob helped teach Embry some of what he knew about cars and how to fix them.

There wasn’t much to do in La Push, or even Forks for that matter, so they spent a lot of their time outside. They explored the area around them and played around, seeing what else they could get up to. It was through this that they discovered cliff diving, by watching some of the older boys fling themselves off a cliff and battle in the waves below as they swam for shore. This quickly became their favorite thing to do, each day hoping the weather would be nice enough to make it safer. Jacob loved spending as much time as he could swimming in the ocean after he landed; the biting chill of the water was his favorite part. He loved to swim.

He wasn’t the best cook, but he also wasn’t too bad and could definitely hold his own in the kitchen. He and Billy had to eat somehow, and the few restaurant options available got old after a while. There wasn’t a whole lot he could make: simple pasta dishes, burgers, steak and potatoes, rice and beans, and sometimes pizza. When he didn’t cook, and Billy couldn’t, they’d share with friends nearby, asking them to lend a couple plates. It was common in their close-knit community, to eat together and share what you had, even if it wasn’t much. But it was all they needed and wanted, and it was enough.


End file.
